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Friday, August 28, 2009

In all my life, only two comics have ever grabbed and kept my interest. I share the first with you today...

Calvin and HobbesYou've seen this little mischievous-looking rascal somewhere, I'm sure: the evil glint in his eyes, the impish grin, the dark tilt of the brows, peeing on walls, the sides of cars, store windows, doors... anywhere he can unleash his liquid mischief. You take one look at him, and you think pure evil.

But that's not really true. Calvin's actually adorable. Not because he asks a million and one questions a minute, not because he has a rebellious streak a mile wide and a generation long, not because he has the proverbial 'Arnold' football-head, not because he's a child genius who often deliberately sets out to destroy and annoy; but because, at the end of the day, Calvin is just a 6-year-old trying to figure life out, with the help of his trusty imagina-real stuffed tiger, Hobbes.

Bill Watterson somehow manages to capture in Calvin the mystery of childhood mischief and the unarticulated desires and thoughts of both children and adults. His comics function as social commentary wrapped up in comic relief, and usually leave readers thoughtfully provoked. I think it's really awesome and quite effective. (When I'm a wee bit freer on time, I might do a thesis on just how awesome these comics are!!)

One of Calvin's most endearing characteristics is his attempt to play tough, even though he's all cotton candy inside (you could say he's a miniature version of our favourite Doctor House)... Calvin is quite an interesting, and astoundingly intelligent kid. He asks questions that just blow your mind: literally!

I'd never want to be Calvin's parents, I wouldn't even want to be an aunt or uncle for that kid! But I can probably imagine myself being a friend of the teacher who has to put up with his antics. Those stories of 'all the horrible things Calvin did in school today' would provide guaranteed daily amusement... as do his comics!

Monday, August 24, 2009

Can you imagine my shock and consternation when I realised that she was talking about me?? She was talking about me!! I was the snob! I'm the snob in the story... I nearly choked on my mango seed. My eyes must have been as huge as june plums... I was so shocked.

"You mean you think I'm a little rich snob??" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes. You talk like you don't understand what hard life feel like."

I was taken aback. She was saying this about me - me! Me- who grew up for the first five or so years of my life in a board house in a slum. Me? The little country girl with the unemployed parents?? Me? A snob?? Heaven forbid!

I stood there thinking about all of this. Then I looked at her. I had to ask again. "So you think I'm a snob?"

She nodded vigourously. Yes.

I sighed and nodded in resignation. "Then I guess I am a snob." And I left.

And I'm sure you're wondering why I just accepted it like that. Well, to tell you the truth. For someone who's come from dirt-poor days to a relatively clean and smooth life... I guess maybe I AM a snob. I MUST be a snob, because since I've come back home, I've gotten nothing but the cold shoulder, the don't-think-you're-better-than-me scoffs, and my personal favourite, the laughter for no reason just to let me know that they notice me but they find me laughable... not nice. Not nice at all.

Just recently I was sitting in a bus and the lady behind me burst out in laughter, then gave out loudly: "Not because dem go college!! Dem nuh better than me!!" And the whole bus looked at me. And, surprisingly enough, I felt ashamed. Like I'd done something wrong. Ashamed of what though? Ashamed of the disconnect and borderline rejection I've felt since I've been here. Not from my family. I mean, things are different there too,but I still get the feeling that at least they love me. In their own irritating and annoying ways. But the rest?? Did I do something wrong?? Maybe I was away for too long. Or... maybe I'm behaving like a snob. Or else why would people suddenly decide to treat me this way?

It's not fair. I want to be petty and behave like an immature little girl. Sometimes I honestly want to cry. But I always remember that there's another day and another sun and that, most importantly, I haven't done anything wrong!! All I did was go to university and live in Kingston for 4 years. And if that makes me a snob... then so be it.

The Author

I'm in love with life, books, beads and dolphins. People fascinate me. I have partial daydreamertalkersleephappygolucky syndrome which means I dream alot (and I mean that in both senses: the fairytale, cottons-and-blue-skies way as well as the Martin Luther King Junior "I-have-a-dream" way), I rarely keep still (fidget alot). I love smiling and laughing. I know I am insane but I'm okay with it. *Deep breath* I have grown to accept that fact. I'm also an unredeemable NERD: nothing distracts me from a good book. I see my life as one big blessed adventure. That alone makes it pretty interesting...

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"Keep your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ground."-Theodore Roosevelt

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"Challenges are what make life interesting; overcoming them is what makes life meaningful."- Mark Twain

The soul is dyed the color of it's thoughts. Think only of those things that can bear the full light of day. The content of your character is your choice. Day by day, what you choose, what you think and what you do is who you become…

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